


The End of the World

by ThanksForListening



Series: Game of Thrones One Shots [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: But maybe that's just me, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, also this episode is the perfect format for fics, its more likely than you think, me? making another fic about Sansa's unacknowledged trauma?, post 8x02, tw: reference to rape (not graphic), what can i say im a slut for liminal spaces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 15:46:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18577573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThanksForListening/pseuds/ThanksForListening
Summary: "Sansa wasn’t sure how she was supposed to spend the night before the end of the world."Brienne and Sansa have a heart-to-heart before the battle against the Night King.





	The End of the World

**Author's Note:**

> fyi you don't have to read any of my other GOT fics in order to understand the rest but I do write them essentially in the same universe (like in my head what I wrote before is "canon" bc idk its my story lol) so if I make a lowkey reference to something that isn't in the show odds are it's in one of my other stories. 
> 
> also there's an illusion to Sansa's time with Ramsay so if that's triggering for u pls be careful.

Sansa wasn’t sure how she was supposed to spend the night before the end of the world. 

She knew how others were spending it -- wrapped up with loved ones, enjoying each other’s presence before the battle began. She understood that. Arya and Jon had been by her side earlier that night, and though the three of them couldn’t ignore what was coming in the morning, they made sure to take a moment to forget about the battle around them. They joked about old memories, shared the happier of new ones, and tried not to think about whether they’d all survive the night. 

With so much to get done and so little time, however, her family didn’t have the luxury of wasting the night away. When they left -- Jon to prepare for battle, Arya to talk to Gendry about a weapon, Sansa knew she should head back to her room, try and get some sleep before the fighting began. Instead, she found herself in front of the war table, staring at the troop placements they’d formulated just hours earlier. She knew battle strategy wasn’t her forte, but she had this feeling in her gut that they were missing something, that _she_ was missing something, and that if she could just figure it out she could save everybody. 

She was so engrossed in the figurines on the table that she didn’t notice someone enter the room until the door slammed shut, making her flinch so hard she nearly knocked over the wooden troops. 

“Pardon me, My Lady,” Brienne said. “I didn’t mean to startle you,”

“It’s quite alright,” she said, willing her heart to stop racing. She quickly put herself back together and looked up at Brienne. “What time do you have to be on the battlefield?”

“Not until the horns sound.” 

Sansa smiled. “The night before the fight of our lives and you want to spend it with me?”

“If you want to be alone, I can--”

“No, I didn’t mean I don’t want you here,” Sansa said quickly, “I just thought you might find someone else’s company more...satisfying.”

If the room wasn’t so dimly lit, Sansa would have sworn Brienne was blushing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, My Lady.”

Sansa grinned. “No one comes to mind? Not a certain knight? Or perhaps a red headed wildling who--”

“I think,” Brienne said, cutting Sansa off, “that I’ve had enough of men for tonight, My Lady.” 

Sansa laughed. “Lady Brienne. Going to let them fight over you for a little longer, are you?”

Brienne laughed, and Sansa embraced the simplicity of the moment. When the laughter died down, she noticed that Brienne’s smile still lingered. When Brienne noticed her stare, Sansa raised her eyebrows, encouraging the woman to explain. 

“Actually, My Lady,” Brienne explained, “it’s ‘Ser’ now.”

Sansa furrowed her brow. “What?”

“Ser Jaime knighted me a few hours ago. I’m not ‘Lady Brienne’ anymore, but ‘Ser Brienne of Tarth: A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms’”. 

Sansa froze for a moment, processing the news, before running across the room and embracing her. “That’s amazing, Brienne,” she said, “Nobody is more deserving of knighthood than you.”

Brienne smiled. “If I’m being honest, My Lady, I hadn’t realized how much I wanted it until he said the words.” Sansa took a step back, looking up at the woman as she spoke. “My whole life I’ve had to fight to get even an ounce of recognition, of respect. I used to think that it would be enough to serve in Renly’s guard. Then, I thought being able to serve Lady Catelyn would be more than enough. It was more than I had expected, and I was grateful.”

Sansa smiled. “But…?”

“But,” Brienne replied, “After tonight, I -- I realized how much something as simple as a title can change you. I feel...complete, as if I found something I never knew I was missing.”

Sansa reached out and grabbed Brienne’s hands. “I’m so incredibly happy for you, _Ser Brienne._ ”

Brienne laughed. “Thank you, My Lady. I feel honored that I can defend Winterfell tomorrow as a knight -- that if I die, I do so as a knight.”

Sansa’s face fell. She turned away, walked over to a bench in front of the war table and sat down. She felt more than saw Brienne follow her and sit down carefully by her side. 

“Is everything alright, My Lady?”

Sansa nodded quickly, not trusting her voice. Lately this had been happening -- one minute she was fine, and the next she was completely overwhelmed, felt as if she would fall apart if she so much as took too heavy of a breath. Her heart was racing, her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and she felt somehow both hot and cold at the same time. 

She was vaguely aware of Brienne saying her name, but it took every ounce of her focus to keep breathing. She closed her eyes, willing her body to relax, relax, _relax_. 

Eventually her breathing calmed down. Sansa couldn’t figure out how much time had passed, whether it had been seconds or minutes that she’d been incapacitated this time. She’d vaguely remembered Brienne putting her hand on her back, and as she opened her eyes, she realized it was still there. 

“Are you alright, My Lady?” Brienne asked, and Sansa nodded, the motion more frantic than she meant it to be. 

Her voice came back to her after a minute. “I’m alright, Brienne.” she said, praying the woman would buy it and let it be. 

Brienne squinted her eyes at her, and Sansa cursed the woman for her perceptive nature. “How long has this been happening, My Lady?” 

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Sansa.” 

She opened her mouth to protest again, but the words died on her tongue. “It’s happened a few times before, but the past few days have been worse than usual.”

“When’s the last time it happened?”

Sansa looked down. “This morning, after I saw Theon.” 

Brienne failed to hide her surprise. “Theon is back?”

Sansa nodded. “He showed up this morning with a fleet from the Iron Islands. Said he wanted to fight for me.” 

“And were you happy to see him?” Brienne asked tentatively. 

Sansa opened her mouth to speak, but lost the words before they came out. “I don’t know. It’s -- he’s so complicated, Brienne. Every time I see him a different memory comes with, and I never know which one it’s going to be. This morning I was just happy he was still alive. When we ate together tonight, it was so easy to fall back to the way we were before any of this ever happened. He was like a brother to me, once, and sometimes I remember what that was like, but that feeling never lasts. Some days I’d see him and remember the way he tried to save me from Ramsay’s dogs, or the way we used to play when we were kids. Other days, I remember Robb. Or how Ramsay used to make him watch while he -- while he --” She stopped before she finished the sentence, slamming her fist into her mouth to try and stop the sob that was welling up inside her. God, she was so weak, so stupid, so--

“Sansa.” Brienne’s voice broke through her own, and she looked up at the woman sitting next to her. She could feel tears making their way down her face, but she couldn’t find a way to stop them. “Sansa, I need you to breathe with me. Breathe in when I do, breathe out when I do.” 

She tried. She forced her body to listen, to follow Brienne’s, and soon the air came in easier, and the weight she felt on her chest seemed to dissipate. “I’m sorry,” Sansa said, leaning into the embrace of the woman next to her. “You came to me with good news, and I’ve gone and ruined your night.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, My Lady,” Brienne said. “I just wish you’d told me about this sooner so I could have helped you.”

“It’s my burden to bear,” she said. “Besides, you already do too much for me. It would be wrong of me to ask you to come to my every beck and call, to save me from threats that aren’t real.”

“Never, My Lady,” Brienne said. “I promised to protect you, to keep you safe. As long as I’m alive, I intend to keep that promise. Danger isn’t limited to a man with a sword or an army of the dead, and neither is my service to you.”

Sansa felt tears waiting to fall, and this time she didn’t have the strength to fight them. She leaned further into Brienne, letting the woman wrap her arms around her. She let her stare fall to the table in front of them, to the battle mapped out before her, a few blocks of wood representing everyone she’s ever cared about. 

“You can’t die tomorrow, Brienne,” she whispered, and she felt the woman stiffen next to her. 

“If I should fall while fighting the Night King, it would be my honor to--”

“ _No,_ ” Sansa said, and she turned to face the woman. “You can’t die tomorrow. I forbid it. I don’t care about honor, I don’t care about sacrifice. You do everything you have to in order to survive.”

Brienne nodded, her eyes wide with shock and something else that Sansa couldn’t quite place. When Sansa was sure that she understood her message, she turned back toward the table. 

“I’m terrified, Brienne,” she said, her voice just barely above a whisper. “I think we’re going to lose.”

“Then at least we’ll--” Brienne started to say, then stopped. “No,” she said, “we’re not going to lose, Lady Sansa.”

“How do you know?”

“Because we can’t. We have to win -- we have no other choice.” Brienne replied, and Sansa wasn’t sure why, but somehow the words brought her comfort. 

She nodded. As she sat with Brienne, the woman who had cared for her like a mother when she’d done nothing to earn it, who still came rushing into her room when she woke up screaming from nightmares that didn’t go away when she opened her eyes, she realized that this was exactly how she wanted to spend the end of the world: with her family, both the old and the new.

**Author's Note:**

> i'll be delighted if u give me kudos but i'll smile like an idiot for hours if u give me comments!! honestly im just happy if u made it this far. hit me up on tumblr @Thanks--for--listening if u wanna talk about Our Queen in the North, Sansa Stark (or other GOT stuff lol)


End file.
